It's interesting that Waller Creek flows parallel to Shoal Creek both emptying into Lady Bird Lake. Waller Creek is the one east of the capital that flows through the University of Texas campus and Waterloo Park. At places they are less than two miles apart. Driving from the studied site of Shoal Creek in Pease Park to the studied site of Waller Creek in Waterloo Park is only 1.8 miles. I bring up this geographical closeness because the biology is very different.
At this point we had explored a few other creeks around town and found them either to have been dried up (Blunn Creek) or too deep to explore by wading (Barton Creek near Barton Springs).
Monday, October 27, 2008
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Shoal Creek
There's something cool about trekking through a creek, connecting with nature, and trying to net interesting specimens for a closer look. (I stress trying because sometimes they can be both elusive and evasive.) Overall, it's a time when you can't help but give in to the power of a moment that's both exciting and relaxing.
Shoal Creek, July 27th 2008.
Shoal Creek, September 19th 2008.
We never took a picture of a cichlid in an aquarium. But here are some in a bucket being moved to a deeper pool as the creek was quickly drying up.
Shoal Creek was the first creek we checked out in the area of Pease Park -- a really popular park and home to the annual Eeyore's Birthday Party. We came out with a dip net and some bread and hot dogs for bait. The dominant fish we found -- by far -- is the mosquitofish. You could see some pretty big sunfish too, though much too big for our needs. While scooping up mosquitofish, we came across a few silver-gray fish with these two black spots. Nose to tail, they were barely a half inch long. After a bit of research we concluded that these were Texas Cichlids -- the only cichlid native to the United States. How cool that they are right here -- and plentiful -- in Shoal Creek. On a later visit, we came upon a nesting pair of adults about six inches in length. They are definitely Texas Cichlids, appearing whitish in the water and you can even see the cranial bump on the male.
We continued to monitor Shoal Creek through the fall. The lack of rain had been substantial and the creek had already been dried up north of Pease Park for some time. We spent a weekend moving hundreds of sunfish and cichlids from isolated pools to deeper and wider pools downstream. The water was so shallow, you could scoop up half a dozen or so at once. But because the pools were still wide -- and these fish are fast -- we could not possibly move them all. By late September, these isolated pools that we helped evacuate were completely dry.
With the oscar gone, we quickly turned our first aquarium into a creek display. We discovered a great way to get to know your native fish is to watch them up close. The Texas Cichlids that we put in looked great. They have a pearly gold color with tons of turquoise and black spots all over. We got our second aquarium when Shoal Creek was rapidly drying up specifically to house these cichlids. Being a 20-gallon tank, overcrowding was definitely an issue. Texas Cichlids have a reputation as being feisty and needing their personal territory. One source recommends sixty gallons to comfortably house one of these guys. Some of ours perished and the others we returned to the deepest pools in Shoal Creek.
Shoal Creek, July 27th 2008.Shoal Creek, September 19th 2008. We never took a picture of a cichlid in an aquarium. But here are some in a bucket being moved to a deeper pool as the creek was quickly drying up.
The Trouble with Oscar
Neal Pronek writes that "Oscars can make fine pets. They have been known to seek out friendly hands placed into their tanks, languorously brushing themselves against the hands much in the same way that a dog approaches to be petted, and it has often been claimed that they can differentiate between their owners and other people."
The previous owners talked of his "personality" as well: How he would arrange the rocks in his tank, how he would eat from your hand, and how he would look at you with a sense of awareness. This was all well and good for the owners that had watched him grow from a five inch juvenile into this twelve inch behemoth.
All he gave us was trouble. First of all, he wouldn't eat. We tried the cichlid sticks that the owners gave us. He wouldn't touch them. We tried hot dogs and coldcut ham that the owners said he loved. He wouldn't eat either. We tried cooked and raw shrimp. What kind of self-respecting fish doesn't eat shrimp?
This was one stubborn fish. By about the fifth day we were really afraid he was going to starve himself to death. So we did what you might expect and bought him some live food. The nearest pet store had only three minnows left and did not expect a new supply soon, so I also got him three goldfish for good measure.
Good news: He ate two of the three minnows right away, but never touched any of the goldfish. The third minnow remained elusive for several weeks. But at least we finally saw him eat and discovered his taste for live fish. Now I have a plan. Being a DIY kind-of-guy, I bought a dip net and set off to catch him some local flavor.
We first explored Shoal Creek which runs through Pease Park in Austin. We easily caught tons of little fish that with minimal research we found out are called mosquitofish -- the most numerous freshwater fish in the world. We brought them to Oscar and you won't believe what he did! He'd suck them in his mouth and spit them right back out -- dead. Mosquitofish must taste much worse than minnows.
Trying to please this picky fish, we set of to explore other creeks. It's in attempting to catch something appetizing for this old oscar that led to a minor obsession with naive fish and a pastime we call creekin'. We've discovered a lot about local waterways. I had no idea there were native tetras, cichlids, and platys in Austin -- but we'll get to all that later. Right now, back to this oscar.
Not only was this fish extremely hard to feed, he was also a downright nuisance. He'd pick up the rocks and loudly drop them, he'd charge the glass as if trying to break it, and he'd try to jump out and end up knocking off the lights and covers. He was always splashing about and making some kind of ruckus. He'd kill any kind of fish we put in there -- and not eat it. Plus, he'd give you this look... this evil look that just told you that if he had been born a piranha or barracuda he'd bite off your face. What a pugnacious fish!
Of course we felt sorry for him. His whole life had been upturned. We put him back up for adoption after only a three week stay at the loft. The new owners gleefully took him away and
I wonder if he's given them as much trouble. We haven't been able to get in touch with them, but hopefully they've brought out a more pleasing disposition in this big, interesting fish.
"Oscars have personality, and from the standpoint of maintaining their popularity, it's a good thing they do, because they don't have much else going for them. They're not especially colorful or graceful, they're too big for most hobbyists' tanks, they're bullies, they're fairly tough to feed, they're messy eaters and even greater messer-uppers of tank arrangements..." -Neal Pronek
The previous owners talked of his "personality" as well: How he would arrange the rocks in his tank, how he would eat from your hand, and how he would look at you with a sense of awareness. This was all well and good for the owners that had watched him grow from a five inch juvenile into this twelve inch behemoth.
All he gave us was trouble. First of all, he wouldn't eat. We tried the cichlid sticks that the owners gave us. He wouldn't touch them. We tried hot dogs and coldcut ham that the owners said he loved. He wouldn't eat either. We tried cooked and raw shrimp. What kind of self-respecting fish doesn't eat shrimp?
This was one stubborn fish. By about the fifth day we were really afraid he was going to starve himself to death. So we did what you might expect and bought him some live food. The nearest pet store had only three minnows left and did not expect a new supply soon, so I also got him three goldfish for good measure.
Good news: He ate two of the three minnows right away, but never touched any of the goldfish. The third minnow remained elusive for several weeks. But at least we finally saw him eat and discovered his taste for live fish. Now I have a plan. Being a DIY kind-of-guy, I bought a dip net and set off to catch him some local flavor.
We first explored Shoal Creek which runs through Pease Park in Austin. We easily caught tons of little fish that with minimal research we found out are called mosquitofish -- the most numerous freshwater fish in the world. We brought them to Oscar and you won't believe what he did! He'd suck them in his mouth and spit them right back out -- dead. Mosquitofish must taste much worse than minnows.
Trying to please this picky fish, we set of to explore other creeks. It's in attempting to catch something appetizing for this old oscar that led to a minor obsession with naive fish and a pastime we call creekin'. We've discovered a lot about local waterways. I had no idea there were native tetras, cichlids, and platys in Austin -- but we'll get to all that later. Right now, back to this oscar.
Not only was this fish extremely hard to feed, he was also a downright nuisance. He'd pick up the rocks and loudly drop them, he'd charge the glass as if trying to break it, and he'd try to jump out and end up knocking off the lights and covers. He was always splashing about and making some kind of ruckus. He'd kill any kind of fish we put in there -- and not eat it. Plus, he'd give you this look... this evil look that just told you that if he had been born a piranha or barracuda he'd bite off your face. What a pugnacious fish!
Of course we felt sorry for him. His whole life had been upturned. We put him back up for adoption after only a three week stay at the loft. The new owners gleefully took him away and
I wonder if he's given them as much trouble. We haven't been able to get in touch with them, but hopefully they've brought out a more pleasing disposition in this big, interesting fish.
"Oscars have personality, and from the standpoint of maintaining their popularity, it's a good thing they do, because they don't have much else going for them. They're not especially colorful or graceful, they're too big for most hobbyists' tanks, they're bullies, they're fairly tough to feed, they're messy eaters and even greater messer-uppers of tank arrangements..." -Neal Pronek
Saturday, October 25, 2008
The First Aquarium
I should reiterate that I just wanted a nice aquarium to serve as an interesting way to separate my loft's sleeping area from the more public -- after all, you can watch the fish from either side. I never planned to fill the place with aquariums. I never anticipated learning so much about fish and their care. And I certainly never expected to spend so much time knee-deep in local creeks. But obsessions, as such, are rarely planned.
I should also say that before getting this loft, I've had very little experience with fishkeeping. Growing up, it seemed we always had a 10-gallon going, but never anything bigger. I know we had tetras, a cory, and angelfish -- but probably at different times. In college I had a 10-gallon for awhile. I remember getting a clown knife that died within a couple days, and then getting a blue gourami that lasted a bit longer. But I never caught the aquarium-bug back then -- I guess I was always consumed by other interests and pursuits.
So here I am in this new loft apartment with my king bed. I'm checking out CraigsList for a good deal on an aquarium. I've decided to get two bookshelves and arrange them back-to-back. This will allow one to be accessible from the bed and the other from the living area. I'm still not sure what size tank to get. But then a great post goes up: It's a 55-gallon for $100. It includes the filtration system (Biowheel 350), lights, and wooden stand. And best of all: It comes with two mature fish! There's a pleco and an oscar, both about 5-years old.
We drive out to Lago Vista on Lake Travis to check it out. The fish are huge -- about 12-inches each -- and the tank is filthy. The pump and hood is covered with calcium, the glass covered with algae, and the water full of fish crap. We'll take it. Let's get these fish in buckets, get home quick, and get this cleaned up and set up.
When we get back, we're scrubbing rock and scraping glass all night. We're starting to worry about these huge fish that were suddenly removed from their 5-year home. Now they're not moving much in the buckets. Finally it's all ready to go. We arrange the river rocks, fill the water, and add the necessary conditioner.
We get the fish in there quickly -- with probably too little regard for acclimation. But they both seem fine, just a little shocked. They calmly checked out their new surrounding and everything was fine for about three hours. Then the pleco died. Just like that. He wasn't flailing about or gasping for air. He just silently stopped moving and, well, everything else. It was disappointing to have our first fish die the first day we got it. We rushed and rushed to get the tank set up to hopefully prevent this from happening . I figure the move was just too much -- or the tank too clean.
The next day it was back to work. I painted the stand and trim on the filled aquarium. We had to get it set up quick to save the fish, so I had to paint it right here in the loft. I covered the top and glass with newspaper in order to spray paint the trim with plastic-fusing paint. (I did the hood and light covers outside.) Then I managed to shove cardboard wedges around the bottom to protect the carpet as I brush painted the stand. Painting in a small loft apartment actually worked out well. Keeping an old, bitter fish, moved from his only home and losing his only tank-mate, did not work out well. Read on.
Set up in place and ready to paint.
An early arrangement of the fish loft and the first aquarium: July 27, 2008. King-size pillow-pit is on the other side of the free-standing aquarium.
I should also say that before getting this loft, I've had very little experience with fishkeeping. Growing up, it seemed we always had a 10-gallon going, but never anything bigger. I know we had tetras, a cory, and angelfish -- but probably at different times. In college I had a 10-gallon for awhile. I remember getting a clown knife that died within a couple days, and then getting a blue gourami that lasted a bit longer. But I never caught the aquarium-bug back then -- I guess I was always consumed by other interests and pursuits.
So here I am in this new loft apartment with my king bed. I'm checking out CraigsList for a good deal on an aquarium. I've decided to get two bookshelves and arrange them back-to-back. This will allow one to be accessible from the bed and the other from the living area. I'm still not sure what size tank to get. But then a great post goes up: It's a 55-gallon for $100. It includes the filtration system (Biowheel 350), lights, and wooden stand. And best of all: It comes with two mature fish! There's a pleco and an oscar, both about 5-years old.
We drive out to Lago Vista on Lake Travis to check it out. The fish are huge -- about 12-inches each -- and the tank is filthy. The pump and hood is covered with calcium, the glass covered with algae, and the water full of fish crap. We'll take it. Let's get these fish in buckets, get home quick, and get this cleaned up and set up.
When we get back, we're scrubbing rock and scraping glass all night. We're starting to worry about these huge fish that were suddenly removed from their 5-year home. Now they're not moving much in the buckets. Finally it's all ready to go. We arrange the river rocks, fill the water, and add the necessary conditioner.
We get the fish in there quickly -- with probably too little regard for acclimation. But they both seem fine, just a little shocked. They calmly checked out their new surrounding and everything was fine for about three hours. Then the pleco died. Just like that. He wasn't flailing about or gasping for air. He just silently stopped moving and, well, everything else. It was disappointing to have our first fish die the first day we got it. We rushed and rushed to get the tank set up to hopefully prevent this from happening . I figure the move was just too much -- or the tank too clean.
The next day it was back to work. I painted the stand and trim on the filled aquarium. We had to get it set up quick to save the fish, so I had to paint it right here in the loft. I covered the top and glass with newspaper in order to spray paint the trim with plastic-fusing paint. (I did the hood and light covers outside.) Then I managed to shove cardboard wedges around the bottom to protect the carpet as I brush painted the stand. Painting in a small loft apartment actually worked out well. Keeping an old, bitter fish, moved from his only home and losing his only tank-mate, did not work out well. Read on.
Set up in place and ready to paint.
There's a big, fat oscar peeking through the newspaper.
An early arrangement of the fish loft and the first aquarium: July 27, 2008. King-size pillow-pit is on the other side of the free-standing aquarium.
Spawning An Idea
I created this site to document my experiences with keeping intriguing fish (and large amounts of water) in my small apartment. The simple idea to get a single aquarium was spawned a mere three months ago and things have gotten a bit crazy since. The story starts in late July when I signed a lease to rent a second-floor loft apartment in downtown Austin. It's a modest place -- quite small actually -- but a suitable size and location to put together an attractive bachelor pad.
Since it's a studio loft -- this means one main room -- I immediately envisioned an aquarium to separate the bed "room" from the living "room." I wanted a kind of free-standing see-through wall. A wall that's alive and full of strange and wonderful fish.
Coincidentally (or is it destiny?), at the same time I was set to move into my new place I also began dating a new woman. Her contributions to this project have been immeasurable. She has been supportive and enthusiastic from the start. I just want to acknowledge that since day-one this has been a shared adventure.
So I've got this loft, but before I could build the aqua-wall, I had to take care of one thing: I had to get a king-size bed. Only a king would do. If you want accommodate a lot of activity in your bed, you have to get a king. Here's another tip: Get rid of the frame and headboard. You just need the box spring and mattress. No extra noise.
On my king bed I keep a nice comforter and several folded blankets made with a variety of textures. I have 16 full-size pillows. Half of them are black and the other half are pairs of red, maroon, burgundy, and gold. It's basically a really comfortable six and a half foot square with lots of space and lots of pillows.
It gets better... another early project was to cover the entire wall next to the bed with fabric panels. There are a total of 16 "tiles" made from adhering fabric to 20" by 30" foamboards. Continuing the black-red-burgundy-gold color scheme, I just nailed them into place. I then bundled some burgundy curtains along the top and side to effectively cover the corners of the not-quite-straight walls. I've been told that this makes the bed look like a stage.
There it is: A king-size pillow-pit with a fabric covered accent wall on one side and a free-standing aquarium serving as the opposite wall. I also put up a large circular mirror adjacent to the fabric wall and a nice burgundy ottoman at the foot of the bed. So there it is: Overall these ideas make things seem more enclosed as a separate bedroom (or at least a room that is just a big cozy bed) in the small loft.
Since it's a studio loft -- this means one main room -- I immediately envisioned an aquarium to separate the bed "room" from the living "room." I wanted a kind of free-standing see-through wall. A wall that's alive and full of strange and wonderful fish.
Coincidentally (or is it destiny?), at the same time I was set to move into my new place I also began dating a new woman. Her contributions to this project have been immeasurable. She has been supportive and enthusiastic from the start. I just want to acknowledge that since day-one this has been a shared adventure.
So I've got this loft, but before I could build the aqua-wall, I had to take care of one thing: I had to get a king-size bed. Only a king would do. If you want accommodate a lot of activity in your bed, you have to get a king. Here's another tip: Get rid of the frame and headboard. You just need the box spring and mattress. No extra noise.
On my king bed I keep a nice comforter and several folded blankets made with a variety of textures. I have 16 full-size pillows. Half of them are black and the other half are pairs of red, maroon, burgundy, and gold. It's basically a really comfortable six and a half foot square with lots of space and lots of pillows.
It gets better... another early project was to cover the entire wall next to the bed with fabric panels. There are a total of 16 "tiles" made from adhering fabric to 20" by 30" foamboards. Continuing the black-red-burgundy-gold color scheme, I just nailed them into place. I then bundled some burgundy curtains along the top and side to effectively cover the corners of the not-quite-straight walls. I've been told that this makes the bed look like a stage.
There it is: A king-size pillow-pit with a fabric covered accent wall on one side and a free-standing aquarium serving as the opposite wall. I also put up a large circular mirror adjacent to the fabric wall and a nice burgundy ottoman at the foot of the bed. So there it is: Overall these ideas make things seem more enclosed as a separate bedroom (or at least a room that is just a big cozy bed) in the small loft.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
